Choices Made
by moms5thchild
Summary: Revelations in a hospital room


Once more, Alice threw out an idea and I ran with it. She's such a diva.

I hope you all approve**  
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**Choices Made**

"We want someone there when the boy regains consciousness" Dr. Cohen closed the file and let his eyes drift back to the face of the middle aged nun. "I almost think it would have been better to do a bilateral enucleation, but the father refused to sign the consent forms until we told him we would save the lad's eyes."

"But the boy is blind?"

"Most definitely… I have no idea what was in that container, radioactive isotopes or whatever, but whatever burned the boys eyes and scarred the optic nerve so severely that there is no light perception. In the end, we will probably have to remove the eyes. Swelling, cataracts, coning or a thousand other painful side effects will have that young man beg for the surgery."

The doctor stood up and handed the file to Sister Margaret Grace. He knew as he put the young man's care into her hands that he was getting the undivided attention of one of the best ICU nurses in the city. Yet, when she opened the file for the first time, Sister Maggie blanched and swayed as if she would faint.

"Sister," the man rushed round his desk and guided the nun to a chair, "what's the matter."

"I recognize the name, the father's name. I knew Jack Murdock a long time ago. I never knew his son's name."

"Matthew Michael Murdock, it's a strong name and the boy will need all the strength he can muster." He paused, "Do you want to refuse the case?"

Sister Maggie rolled the tension from her shoulders and smiled. "No, I'll take the case. Jack won't even recognize me after all this time and that would be a good thing."

Closing the file Sister Maggie stood and left Cohen's office.

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ICU had a rhythm all its own, even after midnight when the lights were dimmed and the unnecessary bodies were sent on their way the song of intensive care invaded one's perceptions. The bop of a one machine would never match the beep of another and the piercing alarms that signaled a stopped heart created a wall of sound that seemed overpowering. The real rhythm was the people, the soft tread of a crepe soled shoe, the murmur of encouragement and prayer, the rustle of sheets being spread over the bodies of the sick and injured was the undertone of care that ground out the cacophony of pain.

Sister Maggie was old fashioned. Even when she wore scrubs she always wore her veil. It was as much part of her armor as her stethoscope and thermometer. When she walked into Matthew's cubicle she found Jack sitting on the floor beside his son's bed. Maggie was glad for her veil, glad for the dim lights and glad for the wrinkles that stole the face he once knew..

"Mr. Murdock, you can't stay here, it's after midnight."

"I ain't leaving my boy alone."

Sister Maggie crouched down and looked Jack Murdock in the face. A face she once loved. "He won't be alone. I've been assigned to be his special duty nurse every night he's here in ICU."

Jack raised his red rimmed eyes and pleaded silently to this woman to let him stay.

"You are all worn out. You'll be no good to him if you collapse."

"I ain't no good for him anyway. Look what I done to him," tears ran freely down the man's scarred face.

"You didn't send a truck full of illegal contaminated refuse on the streets of Clinton. You didn't send him out to rescue that old man. You didn't do anything any other father wouldn't do for his son."

"I didn't get him out of Hell's Kitchen. I didn't give him a place to be except the streets."

Sister Maggie sat on the floor next to Jack Murdock and held his hand. "I've read the accident report. The witness statements say Matthew had been at the library before the accident. Father DuPont says your son is an altar boy and teaches after school catechism lessons; the whole congregation is saying prayers for his speedy recovery. Mr. Murdock, if your boy was running the streets of the Kitchen he would have let that old blind man die under the wheels of that truck."

Then she rose and tugged Jack up with her. She searched his eyes for any sign of recognition and found none, so she smiled and pulled him out of the room. "Go home, get some sleep and be here in the morning." She turned to get back in the ICU station but stopped. "Mr. Murdock, I'll be saying the Rosary at 6 A. M. the Glorious Mysteries, you do the same and our combined prayers will send a message of love of your son to God."

"Thanks, Sistah, I will." The sound of his receding footsteps told her Jack Murdock was finally heading home.

"Hello," she spoke to the unconscious boy as she checked his stats and wiped a cool clothe over his face. "My name is Sister Margaret Grace, but everyone calls me Sister Maggie. I always talk to my specials patients and some tell me that they can hear me. So, I know I can talk to you and hope you'll hear me."

Then she pulled a chair next to the bed, sat down and held the hand that did not have an IV sticking in it. "I have a story to tell you and I'm only going to tell it once, so if you don't remember it you were never supposed to. Once upon a time a young girl came to New York City from Columbus, Ohio. She was training to be a nurse and she was thinking she may have the call. The call to serve; to be a nun; but she wasn't sure. She thought if she got away from her parents who wanted her to marry the boy next door and the nuns who wanted her to enter the convent before she saw anything of life it would be a good thing. Well, this girl loved nursing and she was good at it. She could do things that made the other girls gag because she knew she was doing all her work for the glory of God. Thing was, her roommates were determined that she see something of life, so she would go to parties with them. It was at one party when she met _him_.

Maggie looked over at the comatose boy and gently ran the back of her hand against his chin. "This man had a chin just like yours and the same red hair and the same square jaw. This man treated her like a piece of spun glass; he was gentle even though he was a prize fighter. This man made the girl forget about being married to God and think about being married to him. In the end, one wonderful, horrible night the man and the girl forgot about God and propriety and consequences and they made love. It only took once, but by the time the girl knew she was pregnant she had broken up with the prize fighter. Things were different then, she was filled with shame and remorse so she went to her confessor and told him everything. He sent her on a silent retreat to think about her future. It was there that she realized that her destiny was inside the convent. The prize fighter wanted to marry her, but she knew her choice was the right one. In the end, she had a beautiful baby boy and she gave that boy to the prize fighter. He promised the girl he would make the boy into the best kind of man he could."

A soft smile spread across the face of Margaret Grace as she gazed into the face of her son. "And he did. Now Matthew, I will do my best for you."

Every hour Sister Maggie checked the boy's vitals. She smoothed his sheet and massaged cream into the small burns that dotted his face, shoulders and arms. As 6 A.M. approached Maggie pulled a well worn wooden rosary from her pocket and sat once more beside her son.

"Matthew, the first Glorious Mystery is the Resurrection of Our Lord. I pray you find your own resurrection from your darkness into light."

"Sister," the weak voice from the bed startled her.

"Yes, Matthew."

"Mother?"

"Yes, Matthew."

"Go away…"

She slipped her beads into her pocket and stood up. "Yes, Matthew, whatever you want." Sister Maggie signaled another nurse over to Matthew. "I have to leave now. I'm going to the Chapel. Please take care of the boy until his father gets here."

"Of course, Sister." The nurse smiled after the nun that walked swiftly out of ICU.

FIN


End file.
